


L'amour des deux lapins: Instantanés

by Polly_Lynn



Series: The Bunny Verse [7]
Category: Castle
Genre: Animals, F/M, Family, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:09:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3676872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polly_Lynn/pseuds/Polly_Lynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>" 'Nothing,' Castle says, curling his fingers under Ferrous's heavy, freckled chin and getting an even wider smile for his efforts. 'She doesn't want anything for her birthday'."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Bunneh-verse two-shot. Solely the responsibility of Cora Clavia. The series isn't particularly continuity dependent, but this comes after L'amour des deux lapins: Ce ne est pas un caneton.

 

* * *

 

 

He's fast asleep. On his belly with his limbs flung out and his cheek mashed hard into the pillow like he's making up for lost time. He might be. He's a heavy sleeper by nature. When sleep comes, he is anyway, but he's changed his ways since they've shared a bed. Before that, maybe, she reminds herself, as she pictures him ducking under crime scene tape by streetlight, his hands curled around the long-familiar his-and-hers cups.

He's at the ready, usually. On his side with his fingers at her hip on any given night. Up and moving, if not alert, as soon as she is. When the call comes and sunrise is still just a maybe. But he's out good right now. He must know she's already been up. That it's morning on a day that's his and hers and theirs.

He snorts, suddenly, just as she's reveling in the fact that there's nowhere they'll need to be. A sharp inhale that pushes his shoulder blades farther apart. It raises his ribs and the blankets along with them. The tiny black rabbit takes it as a sign. She coils herself to make a dash for his head, but Kate's hand is there.

"No," she says in a low voice as she turns her 180 degrees and sets her on the pillow, almost nose to nose. "He's not really up."

The rabbit slaps her paws down hard a hair's breadth from Kate's skin, and turns back. She stays put, though. She's annoyed, showing Kate the puff of her tail, but she stays put.

"See? He's smiling. He's having a good dream." Batman chirps and swings her head around briefly. An incredulous look. "Ok. _Or_ he could be up to something. A definite possibility."

"Not up to something." The words are barely audible, but the eye closest to her is open and bright. Alert, and she wonders if he's been faking it. "Tell her I'm not up to something." He peels his cheek off the pillow and inches backward. Batman chatters at him, kneading the pillow like she's gearing up.

"He's not." Kate tugs the tip of one long, black ear. "He knows, because I've told him a dozen times, I don't _want_ anything." She lifts her chin clear of the little black body to fix him with a stare. "Nothing. No fuss."

"Nothing," he repeats sulkily. "No fuss. I get it." He plants his face back in the pillow, nose first, so all she can see is his ear and the few wild tufts of hair Batman is dying to get her paws on.

"Where's Ferrous?" he asks through cotton and down. "Ferrous believes me."

The bed rumbles. There's a mighty snore that sends a ripple all through the expanse of pillows above their heads. Batman chirps and makes a run for the tawny, sprawling heap just as the big rabbit raises his head and blinks a happy good morning at them both. All three of them.

"Nothing," Castle says, curling his fingers under Ferrous's heavy, freckled chin and getting an even wider smile for his efforts. "She doesn't want _anything_ for her birthday."

Ferrous isn't listening, though. Batman is pummeling his side, front paws, then back as she kneads his body and settles into the hollow curve of it. Neither of them is listening, curled up and heavy with sleep in an instant.

"Nothing," Kate says. She lifts his arm and rolls under it, fitting herself against him, too. "I mean it."

"You mean it." He burrows against her neck and she shivers with the luxury of weekend stubble burn. "No fuss."

* * *

 

 

She does mean it, sort of. And she doesn't. It's the kind of game she's never imagined herself playing. And it's not a game at all. It's no simple demurral. It's not a test to see how well he reads her. It's not some bait and switch so she can roll her eyes down the line and tell everyone what a fool he was for taking her at her word.

It's nothing like that.

He's good at this. _They_ are. He does take her at her word. It's just that he hears the words she doesn't say. He picks out the right ones from the mess she still feels like inside sometimes, and he listens to those, too. He holds them up to the light, and it's not that he knows what's good for it. It's that _she_ does and he helps her see that.

She does the same for him, more often than she ever thought she'd need to. He hides his scars differently. Indulgence and grand gestures where she's austere. It's an odd fit, but a good one, and she knows it won't be nothing, no matter how many times she says it and he says it back.

It'll be less than he's inclined to do. The thought makes her smile. Afterward, he'll grumble about how mean she is. He's How there's a debt of honor still outstanding because she went _huge_ the year he was laid up with his stupid knee and he _has_ to get her back. He gets a jump on that some nights.

"It's about _balance_." His toes nudge at the back of her tablet from his end of the couch. "How long can I go with with this enormous karmic _debt_ hanging over my head?" Ferrous stirs, annoyed at the sudden movement. He kicks out with his back feet, thumping Castle solidly in the side of the thigh.

"You'll find a way," she taps the big rabbit between the ears. A half-hearted warning. Batman chatters for emphasis then settles. She goes quiet as Kate does. "Not with this, though."

"Not with this." He hauls Ferrous on to his chest and says the words to him. They both look a little miserable, Castle for show and Ferrous in earnest. Ferrous just wants everyone to be happy. "We'll draw the shades and cover the mirrors in crepe, won't we, Big Guy? Because she doesn't want _anything_."

* * *

 

 

The clues start not long after that. Not clues, exactly. And not hints, either. Not entirely. He leaves strange things just barely sticking out of closets and drawers. The silk end of something. Two somethings, one wide and one narrow in a dark, jewel-tone print. She just has time to see that before he shoos her away.

"Going through my underwear drawer again?" He boxes her in between the bureau and the wing-back chair. "You know you only have to ask. I'd be happy to give you a guided tour."

He pitches his voice low and backs her against the wall, but it's a diversion. Batman is already running furious figure-eights around their ankles and Ferrous is backing up hard with the hem of one pant leg held fast in his teeth.

"I'm not the snoop here, Castle." She bumps him with her hip and stoops to retrieve Batman.

"True. Hey!" He snaps his fingers. Ferrous freezes. His nose points at the floor in abject guilt, but it takes another warning before he lets the fabric go. "I've always been impressed by the way you leave it at the office, Beckett." He blocks her view of the dresser with his body, opening and closing the drawer quickly. Tucking whatever it is out of sight. Turning to lean casually against it. "Me? I'd be dying to know what's in the drawer, but not you."

She gives him a hard look. Batman doubles it, but he's smiling.

"I wouldn't worry about it anyway." He snaps his fingers again and Ferrous heaves himself into the air, turning to hop along at heel. "It's nothing.

Kate clenches her teeth. She rucks up Batman's fur and puts her back to the drawer. "Nothing," she tells the little rabbit. "It's nothing."

* * *

 

Feathers are the next . . . whatever. Shot over the bow. Preemptive admission of guilt. Feathers, and she has _no_ idea what that's about. Yellow, pink, and satin black. One here and another there.

"Oops."

He sweeps them up as soon as she sees them. He gives her a faux sheepish grin. A real one when there's one stuck to Ferrous's nose.

"How many do you think he ate before that?" She folds her arms and glares.

"One," he says quickly. "Not even. It was just . . ." He narrows his eyes, but he's half glad to be caught. "Just that little piece." He tries for causal and overshoots. "Something Alexis was wearing."

"Alexis." Kate's voice is flat. Batman gives him A Look over the rim of her oversized coffee cup. Just on principle.

"My mother." He scowls at himself. "My mother would have been more plausible with feathers."

"Slightly more plausible," she tells Batman. She curves her palms around the black heap of little rabbit, corralling her and ticking her sides. "He's a hopeless liar, you know."

"Only when I want to be."

* * *

 

There's not much in the way of physical evidence after that. There are phone calls he lets her hear the tail end of, but they make no sense. She hears something about costume jewelry and then some chemical name he has trouble pronouncing. When she looks it up, it's use for half a dozen things, none of which has anything to do with the others. There's no pattern and it's kind of maddening that he, of all people, can keep a secret when he wants to. That he's only a hopeless liar when he wants to be.

There's a lot of whispering. A lot of bent heads and sudden silence and she panics a little when he holes up with Gates for half an hour one day. She watches it unfold through the glass, and it's odd. The Captain's short, sharp gestures and the look of stubborn patience that might get him killed under the circumstances. The apologetic gesture to the windows between them and the bullpen and Gates actually closes the blinds. It definitely might get him killed.

There's a buzz after that. Ryan and Esposito. A nod and a big grin from Lanie the next time they're down with her. She officially starts to worry when her phone rings later that day.

"Hi, Dad." She picks up right away. It's not like him to call out of the blue. It's not like him to call her at work, and it's a little heart stopping.

_"Katie!_ "

He sounds surprised, and she's suddenly aware that Castle's hovering at her shoulder. She whips her head around and catches the grimace he's not quite quick enough to hide.

"Tell him hi," he says in a too-loud whisper. He waves a hand at the phone. "Your dad, right?"

She's busy enough glaring at him that she misses most of whatever her dad is saying. It's just as well, though. It's a lie, whatever it is.

". . . _where my head is."_

"No. It's fine, Dad." She arches an eyebrow at Castle. "I get it."

She doesn't, though. She doesn't get how any of it fits together. Castle's phone rings exactly two minutes later. He ducks out of the bullpen and she knows it's her dad. She knows it has to be, and she's officially worried.

* * *

 

There are rabbits where they shouldn't be when she gets home. They're content enough, but they're snoozing on the kitchen counter, and Castle is nowhere in sight. She doesn't call out for him right away. She takes in the scene.

Batman's belly pooches out like she's fuller than full. Ferrous's whiskers have a tell-tale orange tint to them. There's been some serious snacking going on.

"New trick, Big Guy?" She strokes her fingers through their fur, dark, light, and dark again. "Show me?"

She taps Ferrous between the ears. They're both heavy headed, but she knows she's right. Carrots and Batman's ears sitting a more stubborn angle than usual can only mean he's been fending her off and bribing Ferrous, but she doesn't know what it has to do with anything. With Gates and her dad and him slipping out early.

"What's he up to?" she whispers.

"Nothing." A glass of wine lands on the counter next to her. His hands curve at each hip and his lips brush the skin just behind her ear. "Promised, didn't I?"

Batman clacks her teeth and Ferrous stirs, blinking heavily at the two of them. Worry flutters against Kate's ribs, but it's not long for this world. It's no match for the ease that flows between them. She turns in his arms a nyway, clumsy and struggling. She tips her head back and searches his face. His eyes are clear and bright. There's a little line between his brows because he hates when she doesn't believe him. When she even _pretends_ she doesn't believe him.

"You did," she says, kissing him. "You promised."

* * *

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's a not-quite-random Thursday night. Her birthday isn't for a few days, but she as the next day off and the day after that, and he just "happened" not to come into the precinct to day. She smells something fantastic as soon as the elevator opens on their floor and knows today's the day. Not nothing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Second and final chapter. Solely the responsibility of Cora Clavia. The series isn't particularly continuity dependent, but this comes after L'amour des deux lapins: Ce ne est pas un caneton.

* * *

 

 

It's a not-quite-random Thursday night. Her birthday isn't for a few days, but she as the next day off and the day after that, and he just "happened" not to come into the precinct to day. She smells something fantastic as soon as the elevator opens on their floor and knows today's the day. Not nothing.

_Chili._ She smiles to herself. He makes great chili. _His_ recipe. He insists on that, but it's really theirs now. She's added and taken away and insisted and she loves the idea of it. The flutter she feels this time is excitement. It can't be anything too big if there's chili, and the Thursday before hits just the right spot between low key and surprise.

"Castle!" She snaps his name out, as she throws open the door, but even she can hear how wide her smile is.

"You're home." His voice is mournful, coming from nowhere.

Not nowhere. A huge box at the edge of the living room.

"She's _home,_ ok?" That's frazzled. Exasperated. "You'll come out for her, right?"

It's a Photo Booth. She knows that all the way from the hall. She knows that well before she kicks her shoes off and dumps her keys. She knows, but she doesn't _know_ until she's whisking the curtain back and there he is. There all three of them are. Castle on the floor with his back to the wall underneath the camera, his legs stretched out as straight as they'll go, Batman and Ferrous glaring down at him from the round stool twisted all the way up.

"Happy birthday?"

* * *

 

"I'm sorry." He winces and presses a palm to his lower back. She wonders how long he's been trapped there on the floor. "The booth . . . that was supposed to be gone, and Jenny and Kevin were going to take the rabbits over night, and . . . it was just supposed to be you and me and chili. That's all."

He gestures to the living room. There's a dark cloth on the coffee table and the good dishes. There's wine in a decanter and some heavenly yeasty smell coming from something covered by a tea towel, resting in a basket that was her mom's. It doesn't go with anything. It came to her battered and there's a hole in the side exactly the size of Ferrous's nose. It's out of place among the elegance of everything else, and she loves him for it.

"That's all," she echoes absently, because it's not. She steps into the candlelight and sees it's not.

There are strips of glossy paper everywhere. They're tucked all around the lampshade, covering every inch. They're dangling from the ceiling on fishing line and rising up on tall wire photo clips on shelves and window sills like a black-and-white forest.

"It's everyone." She wanders with curious hands. She takes strip after strip and turns each one toward her. She loves the feel of them as they brush her shoulders and the flicker of the gas fire and candles off familiar faces.

It _is_ everyone. It's Ryan and Esposito in top hats. Esposito threatens Ryan with a silver-topped cane in one, but Ryan has him by the collar in the next, a tiny, pearl-handled prop gun shoved against his partner's neck.

It's Lanie puckering up for the camera, a faux fur stole draped around her shoulders. Then it's Lanie twirling a boa. Lanie tossing a sultry look over her shoulder, her back bared in a daring sequin dress.

"She's a master of the quick change," Castle says, pressing his cheek to hers. "Mistress. I didn't ask."

Kate laughs and spins the next strip. "Gates." She says it out loud. She doesn't quite believe it, but there she is. Gates, scowling in a derby with a monocle in one frame, vamping with a long cigarette holder and a boa of a different color in the next.

She moves on, trying to wrap her mind around it all. Around LT and Sully and Karpowski and _Madison_ of all people. She stoops and rests her hands on the edge of things to peer at the strips rising up and fanning out from every flat surface. Martha with dramatic eyes and a veil drawn across her face. Alexis and Chuck in matching cabby hats, and princess hats. In crossed bandoliers and serapes.

"It's _everyone,_ " she says again as she rises. She's methodical now. Going back over things she's already seen. Finding the new ones. Laughing at every new iteration of the people she's closest to. Every surprise. She wanders, saying name after name. She feels silly every time. Stupid, but she can't get over it.

"Pretty much everyone." He trails along behind her, smiling and proud, but anxious and a little miserable too. "Almost."

"My dad." She tugs at that one, snapping the fishing line. She looks around, and it seems to be just this strip alone. He's serious in the three shots. No props at all, though he's smiling a little in the last. He's so much himself that it takes her a minute to realize he's wearing a high, stiff collar with some kind of wide silk cravat wound around it. "You got my _dad_ to do this?"

Castle nods. His cheeks darken and he swipes a palm against his thigh like his hands are sweaty at the memory. "Once I worked up the nerve to ask, he was great. He only gave me The Look, like, twice."

"Castle . . ." She looks around, wordless. She raises her palms. Her throat is too thick for anything else.

"I wanted it to be everyone," he says again. "A party with everyone, and still just us."

"Everyone. Just us." She manages that. She scrapes that out as she raises on her toes and kisses him full on the mouth. "Castle, it's . . ."

"Nothing. I promised." He gives her a smile, tiny enough to make her wonder. Enough to make her remember.

"The rabbits." She twists around, suddenly as worried as she should have been all along.

"They're fine." He follows her gaze to the hulking box, but everything's quiet on that front. "They just . . . " His grin dissolves. "Batman would have none of it all day and then like two hours ago, she decided it's Fort Tiny Fierce or something. And Ferrous . . ." He's back to miserable again. "They won't come out."

"Won't they?"

She marches over and whisks the curtain in back. Ferrous sits up, excited to see her. She recognizes the flash of color around his neck. A dark, jewel-tone pattern.

"A bow tie?" She gives Castle an incredulous look over her shoulder. "How many has he eaten?"

"None." He shrugs. "He loves it . . . it's a thing. We . . . I have a matching one."

"A bow tie," she says like she's not sure she's heard him. "A _matching_ bow tie." She looks him up and down. "Gonna need to see _that_ later."

She turns her attention back to the problem at hand. Ferrous drops his paws back to the stool, hunkering down as though he senses the tension in the air. Batman regards her cooly.

"Hey," Kate says sharply. She holds her palm up flat, nudging the little black toes with the tips of her fingers. "On board."

Batman slaps her hand hard. One paw then the other. She lowers her head and lets out one of her rare growls. Kate goes stiff with shock.

"No." Castle reaches in past her to give the rabbit a firm tap between the ears. She rears up to snap at him, but he's firm for once. He gives a second tap and a sharp repeat. "None of that."

Ferrous waddles in place, chirruping and trying to nose Batman back into happiness. He only manages to set the stool spinning. Batman leaps into the air and comes down, again and again, landing in the same place, facing them, every time as the stool winds down and down.

"You tried . . ." Kate's trying not to laugh. He hates having his plans spoiled and she _knows_ it's not funny to him, but . . .

". . . everything," he says miserable. "Greens, carrots, every kind of fruit we have . . ."

"Girl Scout cookies?" She gives him a narrow look. He's not supposed to give them people food, but he sneaks it all the time. Batman is crazy for Thin Mints.

"Everything. She knocked those out of my hand."

Kate rolls out of the booth, her back to the side. She looks at him. How miserable he is, like this is all ruined instead of wonderful. Instead of absurd and completely wonderful. She grabs a fistful of shirt and kisses him again. She kisses the miserable look right off his face and the apology right off his lips.

"There's wine?"

He nods, dazed but willing. Eager.

"Bring it." She slides down the booth to the floor, twitching the curtain closed. "Bring all of it."

 

* * *

 

He brings all of it. He spreads throws from the couch like picnic blankets. He snaps the dark table cloth high in the air and settles it with a flourish. He calls her _my lady_ and holds out his hand to help her down to the scatter of cushions. He sets out candle sticks and elegant silver and won't let her do a thing. He recreates the whole scene. Almost the whole scene.

"Soup's on."

She's busily sifting through the stack of throw-away pictures, but the near scent of chili snaps her head up. He's handing down a plastic robot bowl, not the wide, shallow soup plate he'd set out among the rest of the finery.

"They're deep," he says, waving off the look she gives him. "Can't have you spilling all over."

" _Me_ , spilling."

She mimes wiping the corner of her mouth. He falls for it, swiping hastily at his own. She laughs and he grumbles. He's forcing it a little at first. Trying to make do, even though this isn't what he wanted for them tonight. But he's cheerful soon enough.

They feast on chili and welsh rarebit muffins piled high in her mother's basket. They're both cheerful soon enough. They're round and full and warm with wine and each other. All's right with the world, except for two stubborn rabbits, and even that seems to be a problem that'll keep a while. They've decided on periodic surveillance and leaving well enough alone for now.

"I can't believe she doesn't hate it in there." Kate reaches above her head to slap the button again. Things whir and click at their backs. A sheet of light flares behind the curtain. They hear the rapid drum of rabbit feet and the frantic back-and-forth of their strange conversations. "All that noise and the light . . ."

"Oh, she did." Castle gingerly plucks the still-wet strip from the silver slot. He holds it up. It's nothing but teeth and a blur of paws this time. Hardly a glimpse of Ferrous behind her. "She does."

"But she loves it, too." She fans out the pile between them. Strip after strip of the two of them. Curious and bored. Alert and sacked out. Snuggling and clinging to opposite edges of the stool, staring grumpily off into space.

"She's complex." He smiles down at something half-buried. Batman is drawn up on her haunches, ready to strike in one shot, braced on Ferrous's shoulder twitching a fascinated nose as close to the camera as she can get in the next. "Wonder where she gets that from."

"Funny." She elbows him, laughing off the dirty look he gives her, and ducking her head to sip the wine from his skin where it sloshes over the back of his hand. "So, where are they?"

"Th- they?" He stutters, following the flick of her tongue in and out one last time.

"Yours, Castle." She edges closer to him in case he's inclined to jump up and start clearing the dishes or get more wine or see if, against all odds, the rabbits are ready to come out yet. In case he's inclined to run. "There must be a million of you." She thinks about it. "And Ferrous. Matching bow tie?"

"A million," he agrees. "Mostly him staring. Or chewing. Or destroying props. He . . ." He twists around, as if he expects Batman to be lurking in the gap between the curtain and the side of the booth. He whispers, "He sat on Batman's tiara. Don't tell her, though. She was big on the tiara."

"Batman?" Her finger stabs at the picture that's landed on top of the pile, a particularly fierce battle shot. "A _tiara?"_

"So tiny!" He sets down his wineglass, his hands suddenly too busy with gestures to keep track of it. "Of course she tried to bite it. And then she tried to beat it up. And then she pushed it off every flat surface in the place and _jumped_ on it. But I got it on her head and showed her the mirror, and she just _preened._ She . . ." He trails off. His hands still as he registers the fact that she's looking at him. "What?"

"You." She tugs at his shirt front. "I want to see _you_."

"They're bad." He waves it off. "I shredded a lot of them."

" _Shredded?_ " She laughs, sure he must be kidding, but he's red all the way to his hairline. He's not kidding.

"It's weird." He squirms a little as he says it. "My picture is everywhere." He rolls his eyes and saves her the trouble. " _Kind of_ everywhere. I mean, growing up with Mother, and then . . . on my own . . . I've got the 'where's the camera' thing down, and it hardly ever bothers me. But this . . ."

"It's weird?" She thinks about it. All the times she's mugged in one of these at an amusement park or a museum basement on a rainy day. All the times she's crammed in with half a dozen friends or pulled the curtain, falling back and tugging at a lover's clothes, the flash searing the instant on the back of her eyelids. She thinks what it would be like, staring straight ahead, her own face staring back, faint in the glass as she waits for the sheet of light. "Alone it's weird."

He nods, miserable again, but she won't have it. She sets her wine far to the side and reaches for his. She scrambles up, bare feet slipping and scattering the glossy strips far and wide.

"Up." She tugs at his shoulder. At his collar. "Come on." She has him on his feet. She snags him by the belt loops and kisses him. "Not alone now."

"Not alone," he murmurs, slapping at the button as he follows her, stumbling through the curtain.

There's a flurry of rabbits. Paws and teeth and joy and outrage. Kate laughs. She fumbles behind her with one hand and sets the stool spinning. Ferrous twitches his ears high, delighted that they're all together. Delighted that everything's spinning and he's getting taller and taller. Batman tries to glare everywhere at once as the world turns around her.

Castle wedges himself into the corner behind the stool. He reaches for Kate, but she's falling into him already. She's grinning hard, and so is he. The air clicks and whirs around them. The booth rumbles and the world goes light, searing the instant on the back of their eyelids.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: All done. Happy spring renewal of life/honoring of the past holiday.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Thanks for reading. I'm editing the second chapter. Should be up tomorrow (Saturday).


End file.
